


A Game of Cat and Mouse

by discordcryptid



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, All Asgardians are safe on earth, IW is a dumpster fire and I'm choosing to ignore it, Loki/Genderfluid Reader, Loki/Happiness because fuck you that's why, Loki/reader - Freeform, Other, loki/you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14599110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discordcryptid/pseuds/discordcryptid
Summary: You're part of Avengers tower maintenance crew. Loki is stuck inside and bored and you're now his new favorite toy.





	1. In the Beginning there was Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one of my first fic ever. Wish me luck!

You hadn’t planned on taking this job, the risks seeming to outweigh the pros when you went over them in your head. Who knew when some alien would come crashing through the wall or some assassin might jump out of a vent somewhere just as you turned the corner. However times were tough and you had to make a living somehow- even if it was just a job in maintenance. At least Stark  _ paid  _ well, even for such a mundane job.

 

_ It’s death insurance,  _ Your mind supplied rather grimly,  _ It is literally to ensure that it’s a job worth dying for.  _

 

Honestly, you weren’t too sure of that, your mind running in circles and visiting every chaotic scenario that might occur each time you set foot in the tower. Chances were, Tony Stark just had enough money and a heart big enough to pay the little guy well even for manual labor. That seemed about accurate. Much better than thinking about all the doom and gloom reasons, of which there were many. More than one could count.

 

And work did seem more unsafe as of late, making it easy to spiral into thoughts of every worst case scenario your brain could come up with.

 

How the Asgardians had come to live on earth,  _ why  _ the Asgardians had come to live on earth, that was a mystery. Well, the  _ why  _ was a mystery anyway, thought the how was spoken about in hushed whispers, something about Ragnarok and a ship carrying them all through space to Midgard to start again somewhere that wouldn’t turn into a fiery inferno.

 

All you knew for sure though was that you wanted to stay one hundred miles away from Loki Laufeyson at any time. Problem was? The man seemed bored out of his mind, confined mostly to the building as walking around out there on the street was a no-no. And his new hobby? It seemed to be bothering you, whenever you were there to work.

 

You took a breath as you came to the corner that turned down to the corridor Loki’s quarters were located in and pulling the mop from its bucket, very purposely not dragging your cleaning trolley down the hall, and began mopping the floors, your heart beating very nearly out of your chest as you came to the edge of the prince’s door.

 

_ Please be asleep, please be asleep, please be asleep… _

 

It took you a few moments to realize you weren’t breathing and your lungs ached, screaming for air, for you to gasp down a greedy breath.

 

What came instead was a shriek and a jump as someone blew cold air right into your left ear, your body launching itself forward and away from the source, stumbling as you rushed to turn.

 

And there he was. As tall and haughty as he’d been since the first day you ran right into him, amusement clear in those green eyes.

 

“My, (y/n), you are rather tightly wound, aren’t you?” He asked, all smiles and charm, making you grip your mop so tightly that your knuckles turned white. On any other man that charm would have been attractive, but on Loki? It was downright terrifying.

 

“Prince-” You began, voice dying halfway through the word and you cleared your throat, sucking in a sharp breath before shaping your face into what you thought was a friendly smile, though with the way the Asgardian’s brows rose, you weren’t so sure, “Prince Loki. Is there anything I can help you with? Do you need your room cleaned?”   
  
“My dear, had I let you in my room you may not come back out with all of you intact,” He spoke, rather uninterestedly picking at some non-existent dirt under a fingernail, “And I do believe Stark would set me loose in the world to be at humanity’s mercy should I damage his property.”   
  
Property.

 

You couldn’t help but feel your anger flare at that, narrowing your (e/c) eyes at him, “I’m not Tony Stark’s property, I’m his  _ employee _ . I don’t know what  _ barn  _ you were raised in but-”   
  
Loki took a step toward you and you lost your nerve, stepping back, heart leaping into your throat so hard you thought it was seeing your mouth as a strategic exit point, and the mop you had been holding so hard it was strange it hadn’t broken, you were now clutching like it was a lifeline, or a weapon you could use to keep him at bay with.

 

“The  _ barn  _ I was raised in was quite the lovely palace, little midgardian, more than what can be said for you, I’m sure… But I’m a generous man so perhaps I’ll forgive you for your little transgression. For a price, of course.”   
  
_ Generous my ass,  _ Your mind supplied as you bit your bottom lip to keep your irritation from making you say something you would come to regret. 

 

“Thank you,” You said, “Name your price.”   
  
“A kiss.”   
  
Your face flushed, with rage or mortification, you weren’t really sure. A kiss. He was asking you for a damned kiss, watching you with barely contained amusement, like he was about to laugh. 

 

“Very funny,  _ Your Highness, _ ” You replied, rage and fear mixing and supplying you with the desire to shove the mop right in his stupid attractive smug face.

 

Okay so  _ maybe  _ you found him attractive, terror aside. You weren’t blind.

 

“Are you done harassing me today so I can get back to my work?”   
  
“Have a temper today, do we?” Loki asked, smile so smug you wished you could wipe it off of his dumb smug face, “I’m afraid my price is no jest, and I would like you to pay up.”   
  
He tapped his lips with a slim finger to punctuate the point, at which point apparently your brain had had enough of being caught between desperate anxiety about possibly being stabbed or flung out a window and the rage of a thousand burning suns, and autopilot casually shoved reason aside to take the wheel and before you knew it, you’d swung the still wet socket mop right at his face, splashing him with dirty water.

 

He stared at you, stunned. You were pretty sure you were mirroring the look perfectly.

 

“ _ I’m sorry! _ ”

 

It was all you managed to squeak as you dashed past him and around the corner, grabbing your trolley and making your way toward the nearest elevator and with some luck? The nearest airport and earliest plane to Tijuana or Tibet or  _ where ever _ . You were dead. You were so fucking dead. Your corpse would be found at the bottom of an elevator shaft in some remote area of the building where no one ever went and you’d be a skeleton by then, identified only by your dental records. You were dead. Real. Fucking. Dead.

 

Loki on the other hand, had different ideas.

 

He’d been stunned for a moment and had the normal appreciation of being hit in the face with a dirty mop meaning no appreciation at all. But the value of the situation was so much greater- he  _ had  _ been growing dreadfully bored with his newest toy, very nearly to the point of finding a new one. But the new turn of events, the fear giving way to rage…

 

“ _ Interesting… _ ”

 

As far as he was concerned? The game was on and he was going to win it. Even if he wasn’t so sure of the  _ rules  _ yet. 


	2. Boss Theme Playing in the Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had expected many things, coming back to work. What did happen hadn't even made Top 50 on your list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is finally here!

The thing about adrenaline-based autopilot is this; it doesn’t normally last long.

 

For you, it lasted about long enough to smack Loki, Prince of Asgard, in the face with a mop before going on its merry way as you shoved yourself into the nearest elevator. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest as the elevator dinged, and you rushed out and into the lobby, shouting some excuse you couldn’t remember at a coworker about why you needed to leave early. You half-expected the victim of your mop attack to be there, right in front of the doors, but lucky for you, he was not.

 

Later that day, your ticket to Tijuana or Tibet was still not booked.

 

Instead you sat curled in the corner of your couch in your small one-bedroom apartment, your best friend in the chair across the table, sipping a cup of coffee as she thought about your predicament.

 

“I mean… Can’t you just ask Thor to keep Loki away from you? He seems like a nice enough guy, he’d probably give him a talking to or something?”

 

“First of all- I work in  _ maintenance. _ It’s not like I’m on first-name basis with anyone there or like anyone besides tall, dark, and greasy even knows I exist. Second of all- how the fuck do you expect me to start that conversation? Oh, hey Thor- I know this is going to sound weird but I smacked your brother with a dirty mop so can you maybe tell him to not kill me?”   
  
“I mean, that’s a perfect way to start a conversation if you ask me.”   
  
“On what planet!?”   
  
“Earth?”

 

You sighed- your best friend always had been a bit spacey. It was why you liked her, and why she liked you. Birds of a feather, and all that. Still, when it came to this, your feet were a bit more firmly planted on the ground. Probably because you didn’t want to end up  _ in  _ the ground.

 

“I’ll ask my boss to assign me to another part of the building, I guess. So long as I don’t go near his room I should be safe.”

 

“Well that’s boring.”   
  
“Better boring than dead.”

 

“Point taken.”

 

A day later you were back at work, dragging your cleaning trolley down an unfamiliar corridor. Your heartbeat was still doing its rendition of Safri Duo’s “Played-a-Live” but at the very least, you were a ways away from Loki’s room.

 

You’d settled into a comfortable pace, and your heart had calmed, which really should have tipped you off that all was not right with the world. Somewhere along the line, the boss encounter music had started playing and you only became aware of it when the hairs at the back of your neck stood on end, the dungeon boss standing breathing down it.

 

Or in this case- one Asgardian prince dressed in green.   
  
This time you didn’t scream, but you did jerk forward, spinning around to face him.

 

His hands were behind his back, and his posture was relaxed. Dressed in a simple green shirt and dark jeans, he could have passed for human, had it not been for the glint in those eyes. No person with even two brain cells rubbing together would mistake this man for a mortal.

 

“(Y/n)...,” He drawled, “I do believe you owe me reparations for the emotional damage you caused me yesterday… Several decontaminations later and I still feel unclean.”

 

“I…” You began, voice failing you, and you had to clear your throat before making another attempt to speak, “I did say I was sorry, Prince Loki. Now if you’ll excuse me, duty calls…”   
  
This time though, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

 

He was on you in about the amount of time it took for a snake to gulp down a particularly small mouse, mop clattering to the floor as his body trapped yours against the wall. One hand was planted firmly against the wall by your head, the other curled around your back, his lips hovering near yours, so close that you could feel his breath wash over your skin, though you didn’t dare look, eyes clenched shut tightly.

 

“You’ll find that I don’t accept rushed apologies, little one,” Loki purred, sending shivers down your spine, and you were sure this was your time of death, with your heart playing an encore of its earlier performance. No stab nor pain came however, and you felt him step back after a moment, his fingers dragging through your (h/c) hair as he did and finally you dared open your eyes.

 

His amusement was clear, glittering in green eyes, but there was something else too. Something that made you flush and avert your gaze, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

 

“I do believe Stark is having one of his parties soon,” The Prince spoke, “And it would be terrible if I showed up utterly alone. I don’t think I’d ever be allowed to forget it if I did, in fact.”   
  
Whatever you had expected, it wasn’t that.

 

“Uh… Are you asking me out on a  _ date _ ?”

 

He arched a brow, the very image of feigned surprise, “Is that what it sounded like I was doing?”

 

“Yes?”   
  
“Hm… No matter. Wear something  _ nice  _ for me, something that shows off your legs, perhaps. You’ll meet me in the lobby at 8 PM this Saturday and you will not be even a second late.”   
  
“Do I get any say in this?”

 

“Does it sound as though you do?”   
  
It didn’t. It sounded like an order, regardless of his soft and amused tone.

 

“... This Saturday at eight. I won’t be late.”   
  
Loki tilted his head, lips twitching up into an amused smile, “And?”   
  
“Wear something that shows off my legs.”

 

Whether you felt male or female or neither or both that day, you didn’t even know yet. Either way, it sounded like he wanted you in a dress. Bringing up the concept of genderfluidity, specifically  _ yours  _ didn’t seem like something you should do.

 

“Good. I will see you then.”

 

And as quickly as the boss encounter music had crept up on you, it was replaced with the regular exploration theme again, though the wild hammering of your heart and the way your face burned assured you that you had indeed faced the Dark Lord of Avengers Tower and lived to tell the tale.

 

You drew a breath and pressed a hand over your chest, trying to relax, “I’m going to have to go clothes shopping…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like, please leave kudos and comments! Thanks for reading!


	3. Books Are Nice Ice-Breakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, Loki is a good date.

You sighed deeply and promptly choked and coughed as you breathed in water from the spray of the shower above your head and with a fumbling hand, you switched it off, swiping at your eyes to get water out of them. You’d been dissociating in the shower for the last hour or so, hoping to sway your feelings one way or another. It hadn’t worked in the least.

 

Climbing out, you had a small hope of slipping and smacking your head- couldn’t go on a date if you cracked your skull open on the bathroom floor, after all. Surely Loki would understand that.

 

“Surely,” You mumbled to yourself, looking in the mirror. 

 

You looked ordinary, you thought. Normal face. Normal eyes. A normal nose and lips. Utterly ordinary.

 

So why was it then, that Loki had taken an interest in you? Was he that bored? Had to be. 

 

Tugging at the ends of your hair, still in its stringy wet state after your shower, you leaned forward, bonking your head against the mirror.

 

“Why,” Bonk, “Why, why, why-” Bonk, bonk, bonk.

 

No matter how normal your face looked, no matter how long you dissociated in the shower, the fact didn’t change that you very decidedly masculine this fine evening. And yet you knew that the limp noodle dipped in ink and oil was expecting you to show up in a dress.

 

“So not only are you going to look chunky next to the stringbean, you’re going to look uncomfortable too. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

 

Well, the fates weren’t going to change their mind just because you were frustrated.

 

In little time, your hair was dry, kept loose rather than set up since you refused to put  _ that  _ much effort into it, your makeup was on, something natural, though with a bold lip, your underwear was on, and… You felt wrong, in the way that a heavy fur coat in summer feels wrong and seeing someone in one feels a little like some shitty episode of the Twilight Zone.

 

The dress you and your friend had gone out to buy together laid innocently draped over a chair in your room. There was nothing wrong with it. It was a tight little number with a deep-v neckline, its hem falling to about your knee, and with a peplum to hide any imperfection. It glittered in the light, covered in sequins, which was what had drawn you to it in the first place.

 

Little Raven, was what your mother had called you when you were young, as you were drawn to anything that sparkled, and trying to pry it from your tiny child hands had been near impossible.

 

With a groan you pulled it on, struggling a little from how tight it was, and then you went to look at yourself in the mirror once more.

 

“... A sad balloon filled with glitter. Stark’s discarded disco ball from the eighties. Sad clown trying to look sexy.”

 

Insulting yourself never helped, and yet here you were. Doing it anyway.

 

“Motherfucker-” You cursed, kicking the wall next to the mirror, “Ouch!”

 

Trading away yet another hour of your life for a deep sigh, you went and slipped your shoes on. Low heels, because fuck if you were going to be even more uncomfortable than you already were. Once your shoes were on, you were hurrying out the door, barely remembering to lock it, but without too much fuss, you were off to the party. If you were late, you’d never hear the end of it, probably. Loki’s incessant whining would follow you to Hel and back.

 

Half an hour later, you arrived, a good five minutes early.

 

Loki kept you waiting a good fifteen minutes, appearing out of the elevator dressed in a suit that looked like it cost more than your entire wardrobe at home combined. You kept your mouth shut about his tardiness, knowing better than to comment on it. Something about wizards never being late.

 

Or Asgardian princes in this case.

 

Loki moved in graceful strides over to where you were standing, sort of half-hidden behind a potted plant, coming to tower over you. His brows furrowed as green eyes looked you over, his mouth pulled in a tight line, as your brain went  _ fuckfuckfuckhehatesitfuck  _ repeatedly.

 

Slightly cool fingers brushed along your jaw and you tensed as his fingertips traced just beneath your painted lips.

 

“I like this color on your lips. It’s pretty.”   
  
He said it as easily as if it was a comment on the weather, and you couldn’t deny that it was  _ smooth _ and somewhat charming. 

 

“This though… Well. We’ll see.”   
  
This? This what? He hadn’t gestured, nor glanced anywhere else, leaving you confused as to what he was referring to. It didn’t matter though, as he offered his arm and you slid yours into it, surprised at how easily it fit there, your hand resting against his forearm as you held your head high, trying to project a confidence you weren’t really feeling.

 

“Breathe, (y/n). Head high, but relax here,” Loki hummed as you took the elevator up, and he reached to direct you into a more comfortable posture, “And remember to smile, won’t you?”

 

A half-smile made its way onto your face, actually genuine.

 

For a guy who had  _ threatened you _ to be his date, he was being almost gentlemanly. 

 

The elevator dinged as it came to a halt, doors sliding open.

 

As you had thought and heard and maybe daydreamed about when you first came to work for the man, Tony Stark’s party was a rager, filled with people who looked like they belonged in the sort of glossy magazines you’d read when you were a tiny thing dreaming about big things and a successful future, along with the obvious guests as well.

 

Clint off in a corner, Natasha with a drink in hand, surprisingly enough Banner was there… You could spy Steve talking to someone at the other end of the room, and Thor… Thor was coming your way, closely followed by the host of the party.

 

“Brother! Found yourself a lovely date, I see!” Thor greeted, all smiles and warmth and electrifying presence that left the hairs at the back of your neck standing up and your face heating up, and you could tell Loki was bristling from the way his muscles tightened beneath your fingers. Despite yourself, you gave him a little squeeze and you felt him ease up just a little.

 

“I did,” He answered coolly, stepping in front of you just a little, as though to shield you from his brother’s view, “And you can’t have them. Should’ve brought your own if you’re so hungry for attention that you need to come over just to accost mine.”   
  
Thor laughed, “Please, I was only curious about her. Hello-”

 

“ _ Them, _ ” Loki corrected, glancing to you to see if he’d guessed correctly, and while not entirely correct at the moment, you looked grateful at his observational skills, while Thor looked apologetic. Before he could apologize in so many words however, Tony had caught up with him.   
  
“Wait,” Tony said, coming to stand by Thor’s side, peering at you, “I know you. (Y/n), right? You work in,” He began, rubbing at his chin as he squinted at you, trying to remember, “Maintenance! Right. Part of the cleaning crew. Almost didn’t recognize you.”

 

A beat, and then he was narrowing brown eyes at Loki, “What did you do?”

 

“I didn’t do  _ anything,  _ Stark. Take your judgement and messed up fantasies elsewhere. I was invited to your little party and I brought a date, that’s all. Wouldn’t want me running off and causing trouble, now would you?”

 

“Harassing my employee is causing trouble, Crisco.”   
  
“Now, Stark. I’m sure there is an explanation-” Thor began, choosing to be the diplomatic one, snapping up two beers from a passing waiter, shoving one into Loki’s hand and one into yours, “And they can tell us all about it over drinks! Can’t you, Loki? (Y/n)?”

 

“Haha, yeah,” You squeaked, averting your eyes and taking a swig of your beer, doing your best to not make a face. Even well into your adulthood, you hadn’t developed a taste for the stuff.

 

Loki huffed, and plucked it from your hands, shoving it back into Thor’s hands, “I’d appreciate it if you don’t shove alcohol at my date.”   
  
He looked to Tony, and reasoning that he couldn’t get out of this one with trickery, mischief, misdirection, or stabbing, he looked to you, “Why don’t you go ahead and tell them then?”   
  
_ Hi, yes, Mr. Stark, Thor… I shoved a dirty mop in Loki’s face and under threat and as an apology I’m here as his date. Please call the police, and if I go missing, tell my family to move on without me and that I am smiling down at them from heaven. _

 

But you couldn’t say that. And besides, Loki had been surprisingly well-behaved, tardiness aside. What he’d been referring to earlier, the thing that was wrong… Well, he was miles ahead of any of your previous dates.

 

“It’s… A funny story, actually. I was taking a break in the hallway that leads down to his room. I was reading a book-  _ Good Omens-  _ and Loki saw it. We began talking about it and just sort of hit it off, I guess?”

 

“And there you have it. No harassment or possible lawsuits coming for your metal ass,  _ Man of Iron,  _ so shoo.”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, but after a moment’s intense staring, shrugged his shoulders to attend to other guests. Thor remained however, looking genuinely curious, “What is this Good Omens book you speak of, (y/n)? I am not one for books, but if it is of any interest then it must be a worthy read.”   
  
You glanced up at Loki, who was looking irritated, and you could see the barely contained twitch of his eyebrow, Thor remaining totally oblivious of his brother’s irritation, though you doubted it was out of any malice that he was oblivious. Like your own older sibling, you figured it was born out of being used to being the center of attention.

 

“... Sorry, Thor. Think you can like, get me a glass of white wine? I think Loki just noticed I don’t like beer, so…”   
  
“Oh! Of course. I shall return promptly. Excuse me-”   
  
And with that he was off to hunt down something you could drink without making a face, and you felt the tension in the man beside you ease out of him. You gave his arm a pat and gave a smile you hoped was encouraging, and while he tried to put on an air of being unaffected, you could tell he was… Quite possibly grateful.

 

A gentle hand moved to the small of your back, and he lead you off toward a quieter area, snatching a glass of white wine off a passing waiter’s tray, and pushing it into your hands, “You know… My request was only that you wear something that shows off those lovely legs. Are you uncomfortable, (y/n)?”

  
His question wasn’t entirely unexpected, but you felt heat rush to your face nonetheless, “A little. I mean. Not a lot. Sort of?”   
  
“Do you wish to go and change?”   
  
“... No… No, I’m fine, just…”   
  
“Dagger to the back of anyone who calls you a woman. What is it you humans say… Scout’s honor?”   
  
“... Thanks.”   
  
The prospect of him stabbing someone for misgendering you should worry you, but instead it pulled a genuine laugh from you, and rather than take a seat across the table from him, you sat next to him, sipping at your wine, “... What do you mean when you said ‘we’ll see’ earlier?”   
  
“I meant that I would escort you to your home and wait while you changed.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
You would have refused, you thought. Earlier. When you arrived. You would have made up some excuse, and refused. Now though? You weren’t so sure. Taking Loki of Asgard back to your apartment sounded tempting in a way it shouldn’t and you didn’t even tense as his hand came to rest on your thigh, “Now, why don’t you tell me about this book, hm? Perhaps we can actually discuss it?”   
  
You smiled, your (e/c) eyes lighting up, “I’d like that.”   
  
Somehow you thought this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave kudos and comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
